Ask E. Jean: I Hate My Nose Job

Dear E. Jean: I am in one helluva predicament! About a year and a half ago, I was hit in the face by a tennis ball, and it created a permanent lump on the tip of my nose, making it look wider and uneven. Most people didn’t notice, but it really bothered me, so about five months ago I decided to have it fixed by a plastic surgeon. I went to a triple-board-certified plastic surgeon who has won awards, and who assured me the fix would be “minor and subtle and no one will notice,” but the results are awful!

It’s like half my nose is gone. And the tip is pinched. It looks completely different. Trust me—people notice. The impact on my life has been devastating. I’m having trouble at work and in my marriage because I cry so often. My self-confidence is destroyed. I cringe when I look in the mirror. And I’m scared to death of getting a fix in case it comes out even worse. How am I going to move past this? How can I forgive myself when I feel like I destroyed my face? Should I risk a second surgery when it was messed up by a professional the first time? How am I ever going to like my face again? I hope I hear from you! —Devastated by Regret, Shame, and Guilt

Ah! Miss Regret: You’re blaming the wrong person! If the doctor made a bad job of it, it’s the doctor’s fault, not yours. Send me photos and let me take a look. Noses take at least a year to reveal their shape after surgery, so we won’t know for certain for seven more months.

Until then, I advise you to say “to hell with it” and stop looking in the mirror. Enjoy looking at your husband for a change, and at your coworkers! The other day I somersaulted over my dog, Lewis Carroll, and broke my own nose. Hilariously, it was two days before I saw my black eyes and the magnificent aubergine bulge on my schnoz, because I was on the greatest road trip of my life and filling my eyes with everything but myself! When I did notice it, of course, I nearly crashed to the bathroom floor laughing, took about 180 pictures, and sent them to my friends with captions that I cannot quote in this elegant magazine. My nose used to go to the left; now it goes to the right. So what? Nobody cares about my freakin’ nose.

I have sent you the name of the best plastic surgeon in New York. Seven months from now, if you still think your nose is “awful,” come to New York and we’ll drink oolong tea and eat little cakes. I’ll be liking my nose the way it is, you’ll be liking your redo, and together we shall present an appearance highly becoming to the beauty and wit of each.

PS: I have just seen your photos. My God, woman! I want you to see a therapist. Not only are you a very beautiful woman, you possess a very beautiful nose. A few sessions with a counselor will help you see yourself as you really are.

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